Amused by their interplay, wondering how it might end, I kept a watchful eye.
More impressed with his shovel than his underdeveloped biceps, she asked if she might have a turn digging holes with the coveted tool. Still speechless, he shook his head, "no" and she frowned, crossing her hands across her chest. Silence polluted the air between them and sent him running to his mother's side, leaving the long-handled shovel behind.
I held my breath...
Sure enough she seized the opportunity, grabbed that shovel and dug in deep.
...and I watched.
Like a silent picture show, I watched as he returned to the sandbox, held out his hand and demanded she return his shovel. She feigned deafness and dug her heels (and his shovel) deeper into the sand. He stood resolute and determined - hand still extended.
Wondering how this all turned out? Bring your pail and shovel and join me in the sandbox at the Christian Children's Authors blog.
My mom has won many medals for gymnastics, and I always liked practicing with her. Therefore, she always inspired me to participate in various sports activities and jump on trampolines, and it proved helpful for me later, when I was trained for athletics.
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